Poetry Friday: The Progressive Poem is Here!

When I read that Irene Latham was organizing another progressive poem to celebrate National Poetry Month, I signed on right away. I really enjoyed taking part in the poem last year. I'm not able to do a month-long project on my own so I'm grateful to Irene for coming up with a way in which I can participate.

I've had fun watching the poem grow from Amy Ludwig VanDerwater's first line to yesterday's line by Margaret Simon. Each day I try to imagine where the next poet might take us on this poetry journey, and  I must say that there have been some surprises along the way!  Now it's  my turn to add a line.

I'm a little nervous as I write this because all the other lines have been so good, and I want my contribution to be just as worthy.  I keep reminding myself that writing a  single line is a lot less pressure than being responsible for an entire poem, and our Poetry Friday community is a very supportive bunch. So here goes.  I hope it works!



When you listen to your footsteps
the words become music and
the rhythm that you’re rapping gets your fingers tapping, too.
Your pen starts dancing across the page
a private pirouette, a solitary samba until
smiling, you’re beguiling as your love comes shining through.
 
Pause a moment in your dreaming, hear the whispers
of the words, one dancer to another, saying
Listen, that’s our cue! Mind your meter. Find your rhyme.
Ignore the trepidation while you jitterbug and jive.
Arm in arm, toe to toe, words begin to wiggle and flow
as your heart starts singing let your mind keep swinging


I can't wait to see where Catherine Johnson takes our poem next!

Diane of Random Noodling is our kindly hosting Poetry Friday today!
 

 

Silence

 

                                                                      I sent you a text

                                                                      and when you sent me one back

                                                                      the teacher caught us—

                                                                      now you're not speaking to me

                                                                      my phone is silent

 

I got the idea to write "Silence" after one of my middle school students told me that she used to send texts to her best friend all day long without the teachers seeing her.  When her friend got caught replying to one her messages and had her phone taken away, the friendship ended.  It reminded me of the time a friend insisted that I pass a note for her and how afraid I was of getting caught. I passed the note, but I was hurt that my friend put me at risk of getting into trouble.

 

I wanted to keep the poem very short to resemble the brevity of a text message. I also wanted to show the loneliness of a friendship ending abruptly the way a text does when it is interrupted.

 

I’m very proud that “Silence” appears in a wonderful new book, THE POETRY FRIDAY ANTHOLOGY FOR MIDDLE SCHOOL compiled by Sylvia Vardell and Janet Wong.  This book is a great resource for teachers with Common Core activities for each poem.   I can’t wait to try some of the Take 5 suggestions with my students. You can learn more about the book and enter to win a copy at the POETRY FRIDAY ANTHOLOGY FOR MIDDLE SCHOOL website.

 

Head on over to My Juicy Little Universe where Heidi is hosting this week’s Poetry Friday roundup!

 

 



Poetry Friday: Grandchildren Rhymes

I had a lot of fun shopping for my grandchildren's Christmas presents!  I can't wait to see the expressions on their little faces when they open their gifts! This is Victor's first Christmas so it's all brand new to him. Evie is a two and a half  and an old pro when it comes to unwrapping presents. She'll show her brother how it's done!  There is just no greater joy than experiencing the magic of Christmas through the eyes of a child. Here are a couple of quick rhymes (really just an excuse to share photos with my Poetry Friday friends). I tried to imagine what they might be thinking, and this is what I came up with.

 

I wish all of you many magical moments this holiday season!

 

 

                                                   I don't care about Santa

                                                   or what he thinks of me—

                                                   'cause I'm on Grandma's Good List

                                                   and that's where I want to be!

Bright- colored sprinkles

adorn cut-out cookie dough
Oh, how beaut-i-ful!

 

 

Merry Christmas!

 

 

Heidi is our Poetry Friday holiday hostess this week at my juice little universe.

Poetry Friday: Thanku



When I was in high school, I was not a fan of poetry.  The poems we read in English class were complicated and no matter how hard I tried, I never got them.  We spent endless hours analyzing hidden meanings that remained hidden to me even after the teacher explained them to us.  To me, poetry was meant only for the intellectual elite who could comprehend it.

After my first son was born, I decided to earn my degree and become a teacher.  I majored in English and loved reading the assigned short stories, but once again the poems seemed distant and unappealing. 

Then one day while browsing the children's section in a local bookstore, I came across The Dream Keeper and Other Poems by Langston Hughes. Being a lifelong dreamer, the title appealed to me. The introduction written by Lee Bennett Hopkins inspired me to read on.  I turned to "Dreams" and like magic, I fell in love with those eight gorgeous lines.

Dreams

Hold fast to dreams
For if dreams die
Life is a broken-winged bird
That cannot fly.

(Read the rest of the poem here.)

 I read that poem again and again until it became part of me.  It was the poem that changed my life and led me to discover a passion for poetry.

Now I start the school year by reading "Dreams" to my students. I even have a poster of it hanging in the front of my classroom where students see it every day. I want them to carry it in their hearts the way I have. So when I decided to join with Teaching Authors and write a thanku, I chose the two poets who led me to believe in the possibilities of  poetry.


Thanku Langston and Lee

poetry changed me
with words of friendship, dreams, love—
so simple, so true

Thank you for stopping by! Today's Poetry Friday is hosted by Mary Lee at A Year of Reading.

Poetry Friday: Where Ideas Come From

Tonight, I'm in the middle of grading a huge stack of eighth grade essays, but I wanted to take a minute to share an interview and video of poet/author Sandra Cisneros explaining how a real life experience inspired her to write her latest book Have You Seen Marie? 

You can read more about the book and about Sandra Cisneros on her website, and you can read her one of her poems "Good Hotdogs" here.

Be sure to visit our Poetry Friday host, Ed,  at Think Kid, Think! for great poetry and book reviews.

Poetry Friday: In the Path of the Storm

We had two days off school during the hurricane. There were reports that our area would experience a lot of damage and power outages. We had two days of howling wind and heavy rain. A lot of trees came down, and there was some flooding, but no major damage to our house or neighborhood. Tonight we're counting our blessings and sending prayers to the folks in places like New Jersey and New York who suffered the worst of the storm.

On Monday and Tuesday, I spent a lot of time watching coverage of the storm. The comments made by the politicians and newscasters from their first warnings to their descriptions of the damage really stuck with me. I sat with my notebook and started jotting their words down.  Today, I'm sharing a found poem I put together from some of those comments.

 

 

 

        In the Path of the Storm

 

We learn lessons from every storm.

Please heed the warnings—

The worst is yet to come

It's time to hunker down

The damage will be

significant.

In the path of the storm,

there's nothing we can do

but ride it out the best we can.

When people think it's safe—

it can be the most

dangerous

The clouds have not yet parted

with another night of darkness

it's tough to see the sun

recovery will be slow—

we are tough

resiliant

 

It will never be the same

but we will rebuild.

We will not quit—

We learn lessons

from every

storm.

  

Donna at Mainely Write is our lovely hostess for this week's Poetry Friday. Hug your family tight and have a great weekend!  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 



Poetry Friday: Home

I can hardly believe it's been over three months since my last post. Even though I haven't participated, I've been enjoying all the great poems, book reviews, and interviews on the Poetry Friday blogs. I've missed being part of the fun.  Today I'm jumping back in so I can reconnect with with other poetry lovers.

There have been some big changes in my life lately. One of the biggest changes is that we moved.  We loved our old house, but it took a lot of time and money to maintain.  It's just the two of us now so we decided to downsize to a much smaller house.  Each week our excitement grew as we watched our dream home become a reality. We moved just two days before school started, and we worked like crazy to get unpacked and settled.  Now, eight weeks later, the furniture is arranged, pictures are hung, and life is getting back to normal. Everything looks really nice.

 So why doesn't it feel like home? Change has always been hard for me, and I've  had to make a lot of changes since we moved.  But, there seemed to be something missing, and I couldn't figure it out. So I turned to poetry for help. I pulled three collections from my bookshelf and spent a few evenings curled up on the sofa reading poems that reminded me any place can be "home."

The more I read, the more I realized that the reason it doesn't feel like home here is because this house is still empty. There are no memories to fill it up.  It's memories and traditions not rooms full of pretty furniture that make a house a home. My very sweet daughter-in-law sensed what I've been feeling and emailed me the other day with some ideas for our family Christmas gathering and new traditions we can start this year. And, right this very minute, my husband is working in the basement turning it into a perfect playground for memories with a family room, guest room, and a playroom for my grandchildren. So I'm feeling better because soon our new house will be brimming with memories.  It won't just be our house,  it will be our home.

Moving is hard, and it can be especially stressful on children. I found a lot hope and comfort in the following three collections.  The first is Home: A Journey Through America. Thomas Locker's breathtaking paintings compliment glorious poems by some of my favorite poets including: Jane Yolen, Eloise Greenfield, and Joseph Bruchac.

 

The godfather of poetry, Lee Bennett Hopkins,  brings us Home to Me: Poems Across America. Stehpne Alcorn's brillant illustrations accompany poems by many popular poets including: Janet Wong, Tony Johnston, Alice Schertle, and Ann Whitford Paul.  This book more than any other reminds me that home is the people and places we carry in our hearts.





Moving Day by Ralph Fletcher ( I've been a fan of his poetry since I heard him read from his first collection Water Planet way back in 1994) is filled with heartfelt poems children and adults can relate to.  One of my favorite poems from the collection starts like this:

         Empty

With the furniture gone
our house feels different.

The rooms are echoey.
The walls are blank

except for lighter squares
where our family pictures hung.


The rest of the poem goes on to describe how although the house now feels really big,  there was "enough love/ to fill all these empty rooms."  Ralph captured just the way I felt as I looked around an old house one last time before we closed the door.  You can read more "home" poems by other poets here.

Speaking of home, Poetry Friday is home to all who love poetry. Be sure to visit this week's hostess,
Linda at TeacherDance for more poetry joy!