A Father's Day Poem for My Sons

Your Dad
-for Chris and Tim

My greatest joy has been
watching the two of you grow
from little boys to men
I admire and respect.

I’d like to take credit
for the men you've become,
but there's someone who
deserves it more.

Your dad—
worked twelve-hour days
six days a week
at a job he didn’t love,
but it paid the bills.

Every night he'd come home tired and dirty,
ask us about our day,
then take a quick shower
while I started dinner.

Within minutes
I'd see him playing
with his two small sons
racing Match-box cars
across the living room floor.

Dinner was always laced with laughter.
Your dad would get it going
telling some funny story about work or
poking gentle fun at one of us.
We laughed more than we chewed.

Sundays, he was behind the wheel
taking us on long drives--
back country roads to get homemade ice cream,
through the mountains to see autumn trees, or just
cruising through neighborhoods to see Christmas lights.

Your dad--
coached your Little League games,
helped with scout meetings,
and cheered you on
at karate competitions.

When you graduated from high school
college, grad school—
He was there.
He may not have said it, but
he was so proud of you.

Your dad--
taught you to drive,
helped you get your first car,
made your friends feel welcome,
and danced at your wedding.

He couldn’t buy you
everything he wanted to. 
So he gave you
everything he had.

It's no wonder
you turned out so well, and
I should have told you long ago
how thankful I am
he's your dad.


“You don't raise heroes, you raise sons. And if you treat them like sons, they'll turn out to be heroes, even if it's just in your own eyes.” ― Walter M. Schirra, Sr.

Summer is Here!

Summer is finally here! I've been looking forward to this for months.  This summer is going to be different from any other.  For the first time in thirty-five years, I have the entire summer to myself! My sons are grown,  we're staying in a small apartment while waiting for our house to be built so there aren't any "house projects" to do, and I decided to resign as a mentor teacher so I won't be working with the newbies this year. The summer is all mine!  Hmmm.  That makes me both excited and scared. 

I'm thrilled to have time to work on the writing projects I've putting off for way too long..  I want to find out where I fit in the world of writing. For as long as I can remember, I've dreamed of writing books for kids. Now, I have the time to work toward that goal. .

But, I'm also scared. I'm not used to having chunks of free time. I'm used to being busy, constantly busy with work, home, and family. I think I've taken on this lifestyle of always having too much to do because.I don't do well when there's too much empty time in my day.   I tend to fill in the empty spaces with worry, and before long I get depressed because I've wasted so much time worrying.  Then, to make things worse,  I waste even more time trying to cheer myself up by searching the Internet, reading blogs, checking Facebook,  reading other people's books, and daydreaming about what I'll write "someday."  It's been easier for me to keep filling my time with chores (which I now realize are really just excuses for not writing) then to face the  possibly of finding out that I'm not really good enough to be a writer after all.

So, this summer, I'm trying something different. I joined the wonderful Kim Messenger's TeahersWrite! online summer camp to help me feel that I'm part of a writing community.  I wrote down some writing goals.  I gathered up some essays, poems, and picture book manuscripts that are in various stages of completion to take another look and see if they can be revised in something worth submitting. But the most important thing I've done is to accept the fact that I need to be held accountable. Leave it to me, and I'll fritter the days away, but give me a deadline, and I'll meet it!  I don't like letting other people down so I make sure the task gets done. The other thing I need is to know someone is going to read my writing and give me feedback I can use to improve. I feel extremely fortunate and grateful for the opportunity to be working with a team of mentors this summer. They are teacher/writers I respect, and I know I'll learn a lot from them.

I've tried to set myself up for the best chance of success.  Next, I need to come up with a daily schedule.   I'm already feeling  a little guilty about spending time doing something just for me when there are so many needy folks I could be volunteering to help.  If you are a teacher/writer, how do you balance your time to get it all done?

SOLS: What to Write

One month from today will be the last day of school for students. Thanks to a snowless winter, we are finishing five days earlier than scheduled.  I'm going to work part-time, but I'll also have some time to do what I've dreamed of doing for a long time- write! 

Knowing my chunk of time is limited to the summer I'm already stressing a little over how to best use that time.  What should I write?  I know that the usual advice is to write what you love to read. I read a lot of poetry. I love the brevity and deep emotional connections poetry brings.  I love personal essays because they help me relate to others, and I love poetic picture books,novels-in-verse, memoirs, and nonfiction books about writing. But, loving to read a particular genre doesn't mean I'd be good at writing it. I've read books on craft, taken writing courses, journaled, and talked with other writers, and prayed, but I'm still searching.

Over the years, I've had about two dozen poems, a few essays, a short story, and one early reader published. I just don't know where my writing strength lies.  If I had a lot of time, I'd probably start a project in each of those genres and see where they lead, but I'm not sure I can handle multiple projects. My hope is to finish at least a first draft of book length project or collection this summer.

Even with my publications, I'm not confident that I can write anything worth publishing.  That little voice that has kept me from submitting keeps whispering that maybe the editors who published my work were just being kind, or maybe they simply didn't have much to choose from so that made mine work look good.

I want my words to touch the hearts and inspire the minds of others.  I'm not interested in fame or fortune, I'm not interested in writing just to be published.  I am interested in creating something that is meaningful to me and to my readers.  I once read an interview where a writer said he can't think about how his readers will react to his writing because the pressure would keep him from getting words on the page. That thought scares me, but when I read something that touches me, makes me think in a new way, or gives me hope, I dream of writing words that will do that for someone else.  I don't know if I can do that, but I'd like to try.

So, how do I figure out where my writing strengths lie or if I have any writing strengths at all?  How have you figured out your own strengths?  I just realized that I've been working on this for the past two hours and it's past my bedtime so no revising. I still have another month of classes to teach, so I'm hoping I will find my direction by the time school ends.

Poetry Friday: I Worried...

I am a worrier. I worry about EVERYTHING! I'm always planning ahead— always trying to control the outcome. Even when life is going well, I find something to worry about. It's not an easy way to live!Last week, I read a Mary Oliver poem that really spoke to me (many of her poems do that, but this one even more so). I hope that someday I'll learn to follow the wisdom she shares at the end of this poem.

I Worried

by Mary Oliver

I worried a lot. Will the garden grow, will the rivers

flow in the right direction, will the earth turn

as it was taught, and if not how shall

I correct it?

Was I right, was I wrong, will I be forgiven,

can I do better?

Will I ever be able to sing, even the sparrows

can do it and I am, well,
hopeless.

You can read the rest of the poem and a few other from the collection here.

POETRY FRIDAY:

This month has been more hectic than ever!  Selling a house and moving into a tiny apartment in less than 30 days has been an overwhelming experience. We go to settlement for the house we sold on Tuesday, then we'll have a four month break while our house is being built. 

I know I've missed some wonderful blog posts this month, but hopefully I can catch up this summer. The one thing I did manage to do was to log-on each day to follow the progressive poem started by poet extraordinaire Irene Latham. It's been a lot fun watching this poem grow, and trying to imagine the line I'd add when it was my turn.  From the start, the first two lines made me think of the deep emotional hunger I've often filled with poetry...reading it, writing it. Although I kept testing other possible topics,  thoughts of poetry kept weaving its way back to me. Every line relates somehow (at least in my mind) to poetry.  Yesterday, when I read  the line added by Renee at No Water River, it seemed like a natural lead in to the what I think this poem is about.

If you are reading this

you must be hungry

Kick off your silver slippers

Come sit with us a spell

A hanky, here, now dry your tears

And fill your glass with wine

Now, pour. The parchment has secrets

Smells of a Moroccan market spill out.

You have come to the right place, just breathe in.

Honey, mint, cinnamon, sorrow. Now, breathe out

last week’s dreams. Take a wish from the jar.

Inside, deep inside, is the answer…

Unfold it, and let us riddle it together,

…Strains of a waltz. How do frozen fingers play?

How do fennel, ginger, saffron blend in the tagine?

Like broken strangers bound by time, they sisterdance…

their veils of sorrow encircle, embrace.

Feed your heart with waltzes and spices.

Feed your soul with wine and dreams.

Humble dust of coriander scents your feet, coaxing

seascapes, crystal sighs and moonshine from your melody

Beware of dangers along the path of truth

And beware, my friend, of too much bewaring–

strong hands cushion you, sweet scents surround you—now leap

without looking, guided by trust. And when you land

on silver-tipped toes, buoyed by joy– you’ll know

you are amazing, you are love, you are poetry—

 

Stay tuned, who knows where Caroline at Caroline by Line might lead us when she adds her line tomorrow!  

 

Be sure to check out more poetry fun at Tabatha at The Opposite of Indifference.

 

Poetry Friday

Last Saturday,  I was browsing my local Barnes and Noble and spotted Live Your Dash by Linda Ellis.  The book opens with the poem "The Dash."  I was so touched by the message of the poem that I haven't stopped thinking about it. It's amazing how so few words can say so much!  After doing a little research, I discovered this poem has been around for years. I don't know how I missed it, but I'm sure glad this little poem finally found it's way into my life. 

The Dash

I read of a man who stood to speak
At the funeral of a friend.
He referred to the dates on her tombstone
From the beginning to the end.

He noted that first came the date of her birth
And spoke of the following date with tears,
But he said what mattered most of all
Was the dash between those years.

For that dash represents all the time
That she spent alive on earth
And now only those who loved her
Know what that little line is worth.

For it matters not, how much we own,
The cars, the house, the cash,
What matters is how we live and love
And how we spend our dash.

Linda Ellis copyright 1996

You can hear the author read the entire poem here.

For more poetry joy, head on over to Booktalking where Anastasia is hosting Poetry Friday. Don't forget to check out our Progressive Poem. Today's line comes from Tabitha at The Opposite of Indifference.

Poetry Friday

The 2012 Madness Poetry Tournament has come to an end,but you can still read the poems written by the 64 poets who participated.  Many thanks to Ed DeCaria for organizing and sponsoring the Madness! He was an amazing host who tirelessly answered participants' questions and provided constant encouragement. He did a fabulous job of planning this event, and he even designed a trophy for the champion.  It's obvious he put in a lot of time and effort to get something like this going.

What a delight it was to read the poems. The quality is amazing. Remember, poets had only 36 hours from the time they got their assigned word to write their poems.  Deciding on which poem to vote for in each match-up was a challenge! 

Although I only lasted one round, I had a great time being part of the fun. My word was synthetic.  When I first saw my word, I freaked a little. I had no idea where this word would lead me, but after about a dozen false starts, time was running out.  I finally decided to try writing a limerick anyone with a sibling might relate to. I'm always nervous about posting my poems, but I'm trying to push myself to take more risks,  so here goes.
Broken XBox

His words are apologetic
But I know they’re simply synthetic—
With tears in his eyes
My brother spews out his lies
Hoping I’ll be sympathetic!

I don't usually write humor and meter is always a stretch for me.  I was just grateful to come up with something using the word synthetic, and I enjoyed being part of a poetry-writing community! Ed has decided to make the tournament an annual event!  So,  I'm looking forward to many years of Madness! 

Now on to the next event-  the Progressive Poem!  Head on over to  A Year of Reading to read the poem so far. It's going to be fun to watch how it unfolds during the rest of the month!
A big thank you to Robyn at Read, Write, Howl for hosting Poetry Friday today!