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!

Poetry Friday

One of the best things about subscribing to online poetry magazines is that I wake up every morning to poems in my inbox!  I always look forward to discovering poets who are new to me. This week, The Writer's Almanac published "The Fence Painter" by Richard Jones.  I liked the poem a lot and decided to search the archives and internet to read more of his poems. I realized that althougth I hadn't recognized the poet's name, I had indeed read and enjoyed his work. Today I'm sharing one of my favorite poems by Richard Jones from his collection The Blessing.

Why do poets write?


My wife, a psychiatrist, sleeps
through my reading and writing in bed,
the half-whispered lines,
manuscripts piled between us,

You can read or listen to the rest of the poem here, and read more Richard Jones' poems here.
Enjoy more poetry gems over at A Teaching Life.

Poetry Friday: Old Friends

One of the best things about summer vacation is having time to visit with old friends. Last night, I was looking through some boxes of books and came acorss The Bat Poet by Randall Jarrell.  The Bat Poet is one of the friends I turn to when I need to be reminded to be myself.

I love this story.  Every time I read it, I see connections I hadn't noticed before.  The main character is a little brown bat who struggles through inner conflict trying to find his voice. At first, he imitates the mockingbird, who he admires for her songs, but he soon realizes that imitation is not answer. When he finally decides to express himself in a way that only he can, he begins to discover his own true self.

 I've been spending a lot of time this summer trying to find my writing voice. I read writers I admire and try to learn from them.  Like the little bat, I often tend to compare myself to others who are more talented and successful.  And, at times I even try to imitate them which is always a disaster because I

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.