The Poetry Sisters challenge this week is a favorite form of mine created by my fellow Inkling Heidi Mordhorst, the definito. The definito is a poem of 8-12 lines for children that defines a word. The word being explained is the last word of the poem.
I subscribe to Merriam-Webster’s word of the day. I love learning new words and this one was not only new to me, but it was a mouth full of p’s to say.
Some perspective on perspicacious: the word combines the Latin perspicac- (from perspicax meaning “clear-sighted,” which in turn comes from perspicere, “to see through”) with the common English adjective suffix -ious. The result is a somewhat uncommon word used to describe someone (such as a reader or observer) or something (such as an essay or analysis) displaying the perception and understanding of subtleties others tend to miss.
Last weekend I spent some time with my 3 year old (almost 4 year old) grandson. I am constantly amazed at his ability to observe his world and notice things that most of us just take for granted. I love seeing things in a fresh way when I am with him. I’m not sure I have a full grip on the word perspicacious, but working on this poem made me happy to capture the awe of a toddler.
Perspicacious Definito
At some point we lose perception, perspective clouded, but you, my child can see the train track, and notice up and down, lower, higher, your place in space. When you spin, you laugh, feeling dizzy. Under the influence of gravity you understand what you don’t understand…playful perspicacity.
Our friend Molly loves to rise early and with camera in hand, head to the nearest water source. Morning light illuminated some mysterious bubbles on her recent excursion. I marvel at her photography skills and her ability to see beauty. Let’s take a moment to stand in awe, to see beauty, to feel alive.
Write a small poem in the comments and respond with encouragement to other writers.
Bubbles by Molly Hogan
Just below surface mysterious, magical breath of life bubbles
The Open Write over at Ethical ELA was happening this week. I participated for a few days. On Saturday, Denise Krebs offered this writing prompt: write an ode to a childhood love. I thought about my diary from 1975 which I still have tucked away in my closet. It’s something of a miracle that I still have it because my childhood home was flooded in 1979. I’m not sure how this diary escaped.
Time was that when I looked at my diary, all I could see was the struggling teenager, flip-flopping from I like Robby to I like Bobby. I had tucked slips of paper into the diary, notes from friends and poems. Yes, poems.
Today I’m trying a different perspective of my younger self. I am thinking more kindly toward her. She was developing, in the process of becoming. No one is perfect when they are 14. Actually, I am not perfect now. We are constantly in a period of discovery about who we are, who and what we love. I think this diary may hold a precious girl, one in need of love.
“One Year Diary” circa 1975
“One Year Diary”
Golden pages wrapped in a keyless lock, you locked away all my dreams and screams for truth and understanding.
I was standing at the threshold of who I am. You honored the me I was with timeless sanctity.
Notes and poems tucked in like folds of a blanket, nestling moments I wanted to keep (and forget.)
Cursive swirls and exaggerated tittles, my fourteen year old soul remains buried here.
I try to get outside early in the morning for a walk, often before the sun rises. On my path is a grove of fruit trees. I watch these trees as the season slowly changes to fall. Trees seem to know even before we can feel the air temperature change that fall is on its way. I know the slant of light changes and all that, but I just wish for a little cooler breeze. My husband always says that satsumas (oranges) ripen around the time of the first report card. I wrote a modern haiku in honor of the wet green fruit. Please take a moment to write a small poem in the comments and support other writers.
green fruit by Margaret Simon
Sweet fruit of the earth Taste of rain, taste of sun Abundantly enough
Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for creating an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write and share.
The decorating theme at one of my schools this year is books, so I chose to depict one of my favorite books, The Dot. I celebrate Dot Day every year with my students, but this year I adopted the whole school, sort of. I sent out an invitation to teachers to sign up to send 4 kids to my room at recess time. (I only have 4 chairs around a single table.) I had wonderful participation and have had so much fun working with a variety of grade levels. With the older kids I opened up sets of watercolors and set out paper plate dots. For the younger ones, I gave them a coffee filter to decorate with markers. I then sprayed them with water so that the ink spread for a cool looking result.
With my gifted students, I made Dot Zeno Zines. In the spirit of “making a mark and seeing where it takes you”, we drew a design on plain paper. Then we wrote Zeno poems. Zeno is a form created by J. Patrick Lewis that uses the sequence 8, 4, 2, 1, 4, 2, 1, 4, 2, 1 with each one syllable rhyming. I’m not sure which should come first, the first 8-4-2-1 sequence or the rhyming words. We’ve tried both ways. I let the kids struggle somewhat to just figure it out. Sometimes it’s hard to say what you want to say with so many constraints. It’s a process. Process can be messy and imperfect, but when you’ve puzzled it out, it’s rewarding.
Poetry Friday is hosted this week Down Under with Kat Apel.
In Dictionary for a Better World, Charles Waters writes about Courage using a cinquain form. “Sometimes courage can be…” The form is simple: five lines with a syllable count of 2, 4, 6, 8, 2. Sometimes these simple forms open up possibilities for writing that we wouldn’t normally explore.
I’m listening to The Book of Hope with Jane Goodall and Douglas Abrams. I explored the topic with a cinquain to model for my students.
Sometimes poetry is hiding in plain sight you can find poetry in your mind look hard
This week’s photo comes from California photographer/ teacher Kim Douillard. I couldn’t resist this not-so-cuddly bear-of-stones. She took the photo on the campus of UC San Diego, marked with the hashtag Stuart Collection (click here to see a size reference).
Stone Bear, Stuart Collection, UC San Diego by Kim Douillard, artist Tim Hawkinson
I hope you enjoy musing on this photo. I’ll be back later with a poem. Post a small poem in the comments and encourage other writers with responses. Thanks for stopping by.
A Fib Poem (1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8)
Bear your boulder. Be bolder in your stone-cold suit. Hold a steady shoulder for me.
Image by Linda Mitchell Today’s Poetry Friday Roundup is with Carol at Beyond Literacy Link
I have to admit I wasn’t prepared for my lesson on Friday. I really don’t have a good excuse. It just happened, so I opened my desk drawer and pulled out metaphor dice. I wasn’t really sure how this writing tool would work with my young students. This year my gifted classes include third and fourth graders. Do they even know what a metaphor is?
The beauty of Taylor Mali’s Metaphor Dice is their adaptability across every grade level and writing ability. In fact, they can be the just right teaching tool or game you need on a Friday when you don’t have a poem in your pocket.
After a few rounds of metaphor dice writing, my 4th grade student Adelyn said, “Do you ever get so involved in writing that you forget to breathe?” I think that sums up a successful writing session.
Today I am sharing one of my metaphor dice poems.
My birth is a bright songbird singing a morning lullaby.
Each new day is a birth– a chance to discover joy, to hear the bright song of the cardinal or chickadee.
Welcome to This Photo Wants to be a Poem. Respond to the photo collage with a small poem in the comments. Encourage other writers with comments.
I don’t know much about spiders, but orb spiders are out and about doing their thing and making amazing intricate webs. I took the first picture from my front courtyard. The web was huge and glimmering in the sunlight. I couldn’t really capture it with a phone camera. If you look closely, you can see the big black spider in the center.
On my Instagram feed I saw Paul Hankin’s photo of a similar style web. His caption read, “What might you create in your own little corner?”
In my classroom, we are answering “This or That” questions for attendance these days. So I put these images side by side and ask you this or that? Are you the type to hide your masterpiece in a corner, under and away from others who may harm it or misunderstand? Or do you place your art where everyone can see it, if only they stop long enough to notice?
Create a small poem around your thoughts today. Share it in the comments. Return, if you can, to leave encouraging comments to other writers.
By Margaret Simonby Paul Hankins
Weaving in my own corner Ever-winding path Behold a work in progress
This month’s Inkling challenge was mine to create. I invited my writing group to share any poem that they may have written to This Photo Wants to be a Poem prompt. I post a photo prompt once a week on Wednesdays. My photos come from my own iPhone photos or from Instagram friend’s photos, by permission.
I enjoy the craft of writing a small poem. Many of the ones I write bring about some deeper wisdom. Often I surprise myself with these, wondering where they come from. Today I am featuring bird wisdom poems. Nature offers itself to us with its revelation of truth.
Peek in on my Inkling buddies and see what they are doing with this challenge:
I live on the Bayou Teche in New Iberia, Louisiana. I love teaching, poetry, my dog Charlie, my three daughters, and dancing with my husband. This space is where I capture my thoughts, share my insights, and make connections with the world. Welcome! Walk in kindness.
Reflections on the Teche 