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Archive for February, 2024

This Photo Wants to be a Poem: Full Hunger Moon

Posted in Photography, Poetry, This Photo Wants to be a Poem, Writing, tagged , , on February 28, 2024| 41 Comments »

This photo was posted by Kim Douillard with the comment, “Full moon snowshoeing? Yes, please.” Taken in Mammoth Lakes, CA.

Last week’s full moon was a beauty. I had a tug of envy when I saw Kim’s amazing photo on Facebook. What a capture of the forest trees pointing to full moon. The snow is clean and untouched. I felt a sense of calm and peace, all the while knowing that for the Creator to make snow, it must be cold. But this scene is deceptively warm.

Elfchen have become my go-to form this year. I am attracted to using one word to start a poem, one word to send me out on the slope of where a poem wants to take me. Sometimes I go the way of description, sometimes toward a deeper wisdom. My student has created two words for these kinds of poems, a quotem or a quoem. Quotem is a quote that sounds like a poem. A quoem is a poem that sounds like a quote. I hope you feel inspired to write something, be it quotem or quoem. Share it in the comments and encourage other writers along the way with your responses.

Slope
slides toward
a hungry moon
lighting my way to
Poem

Margaret Simon, elfchen draft

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Slice of Life: Safe Space for Writing

Posted in Poetry, Slice of Life, Teaching, Writing, tagged , , on February 27, 2024| 7 Comments »

Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for creating an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write and share.

Having a safe space to imagine and dream and (re)invent yourself is the first step to being happy and successful, whatever road you choose to pursue.

Ashley Bryan, We Rise We Resist We Raise Our Voices foreword

Hope, a mark of hope, a small piece of washi tape from a student now in my notebook reminding me that I am in a safe space.

Creating a safe space for writers is my top goal as an ELA teacher. When I hear a student read aloud their most fresh and vulnerable words, I am honored. Sometimes they don’t want to share; however, they will hand me their notebook to read. They are watching my eyes for the glow of adoration. I do adore what they write. They are confident children. I need to remember, though, that they are children. They need my validation. My words of encouragement. A sign of hope.

A mark of hope
a place to be
A dream to dream
a road to see
you see in me
a hand with a gift
a mark of hope
a place to be

Margaret Simon, draft
Playing with washi tape shapes in my notebook.

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Poetry Friday: Persona Poems

Posted in Poetry Friday, Writing, tagged , on February 23, 2024| 19 Comments »

Poetry Friday is hosted by Tabatha at The Opposite of Indifference.

Have you seen the beautiful poetry collection by Kate Coombs Today I am a River? In each poem, the author takes on the “mask” or “persona” of something in nature.

Wind
I am the wind.
Sometimes I rage!
I slash through forests,
stamp over mountains.
I am a giant, an ogre, a troll–
I kick the treetops,
yell, bellow, and roar!

1st stanza of “Wind” from Kate Coombs book “Today I am a River”

This is a book students can access easily. It taps into pretend play. What if I were the wind today?

On Tuesday afternoon, I attended a workshop at the Acadiana Center for the Arts. We wrote poems to art, ekphrasis. One of the areas held two stained glass pieces of the same tree image. One tree was surrounded by clear glass, the other in dark blue. I took on the persona of night speaking to dawn.

Next week is my turn to challenge our Inklings for the first Friday of the month. I challenged them and now you to write a persona poem. Here are a few links to persona poems: Mother to Son by Langston Hughes, The Piano Speaks by Sandra Beasly, and an essay from The Poetry Foundation by Rebecca Hazelton.

I am Night
I am night
I feel ordinary light
listening to noisy killdeers
chattering in my mind.
I seek dawn–
open the shades, hopeful a new day will come.
I twitch at the backdoor,
mew like hungry cats
waiting to be fed.
Will you come walk with me?
Turn toward the east.
Watch sun rise
in pink and purple
above the trees.
Will you seek my shadow
for comfort
or rise?

Margaret Simon, draft

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This Photo Wants to be a Poem: Abstract Art

Posted in Poetry, This Photo Wants to be a Poem, Writing, tagged , , on February 21, 2024| 8 Comments »

Yesterday afternoon I went to a workshop at the Acadiana Center for the Arts led by my mentor and friend Darrell Bourque. In the large gallery space was the show In Medias Res: How One Story Becomes Another, a collection of paintings from his collection accompanied by the poems he wrote to them. Darrell first introduced me to eckphrastic poetry years ago. This piece of painted canvas was among a pile of canvases in a writing station within the gallery.

The instructions read “Mystory: Turn no to yes”.

I love how the smashing of my and story looks like the word mystery. What mystery is hiding your true story? What story in your life turned a no into a yes?

During the workshop, I received an enticing text invitation to an Argentinian dinner complete with tango lessons. I said yes without even asking my husband. I knew yes would be his answer, too.

Today
we imagine
an eager sunrise
spinning a new story
Tango

daily elfchen, Margaret Simon

What mystery/mystory do you have waiting to expose? What emotions does the abstract painting stir for you? Please leave a small poem in the comments. Remember to write encouraging responses to other writers.

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Slice of Life: Church

Posted in being mamére, Slice of Life, tagged on February 20, 2024| 4 Comments »

Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for creating an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write and share.

On Sunday, I took Leo to church with me. I packed a cloth bag with 2 fruit snacks, a blank book, crayons, pens, and 2 Dum Dums. I was ready to entertain a bored 5 year old.

I sing in the choir. We sing from a loft. We are a small group that makes a joyful noise. We practice for an hour before the service. During practice, Leo drew, colored, and watched the organist play. When we took a break, he said, “That took forever.”

When the service began, I was prepared for him to want to go home, but he didn’t whine at all. He told me he wanted to watch from the stairs.

Leo on the stairs at church

Our church is an old Episcopal church founded in the 1850’s. My husband’s family arrived in Louisiana in the 1880’s and his great grandfather and great grandmother, George and Mary, were married in the church. This space is not only sacred, it is historic.

This was Leo’s first visit that he will remember. Amazing changes happen at all ages of early development, but the one I’ve noticed since Leo turned 5 is his curiosity and understanding of things, relationships, and perhaps the concept of “Jesus Loves Me” that I read to him from the box of crayons.

He said, “There are 3 S’s.”

After the service, we went into the parish hall for treats and juice. Friends were greeting us, saying hello to Leo, admiring his good behavior and his curly hair.

As I was buckling him into his car seat to head home, he asked me, “How do you know all those people?”

I answered, “I’ve been going to this church for 41 years.”

He said, “That means you’re old.”

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Poetry Friday is Here!

Posted in Poetry Friday, tagged , , , , , on February 15, 2024| 47 Comments »

Welcome to Poetry Friday. I am happy to be hosting this week. I chose this week because I am out of school for the week for Mardi Gras break. I’m sorry you do not all get this break. It has been so much fun. And today the fun continues with all of your poetry goodness. Find the link up at the end of this post.

Leigh Anne Eck is naming skies. On Thursday, I read her post on Facebook alongside a photo of a sunrise. She wrote “Today’s sky is “step.” I hope you “step into a new day” and “rise up from the dust and walk away.” Following the madness of Mardi Gras, coming home to the solemn Ash Wednesday, I felt surreal, a mixture of fantasy and fact. Her message grounded me as did my morning walk through my familiar neighborhood. Home.

I thought I might get a poem from all of this, yet that poem is still brewing. Today I am sharing a sweet haiku I wrote about my 4 year old grandson picking a wildflower for me. Here is a photo of the tiny blossom in a Mardi Gras cup. I wrote the haiku using Read, Write, Think Haiku interactive, a prompt from Donna Smith.

Wildflower from Thomas

Winter in Louisiana is mostly wet and humid. On an early morning walk while walking through the foggy air, a grief poem came to me. Maybe reading these two poems side by side will put you into that surreal mood I’m in, where there is joy and grief and everything in between.

If you are joining in the link up party, click below and add your link.

You are invited to the Inlinkz link party!Click here to enter

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This Photo Wants to be a Poem: Dragon Float

Posted in Photography, Poetry, This Photo Wants to be a Poem, tagged , , , , on February 14, 2024| 11 Comments »

Mardi Gras Parade on St. Charles in New Orleans

I’ve been in New Orleans since Saturday. I’m on Mardi Gras break from school. And yes, I’ve been to many parades. I love this photo because it was taken at a night parade when all the floats were lit up. This one made me think of Chinese New Year and the Year of the Dragon. My brother-in-law is on the far right in a coat my sister made for him from Crown Royal bags. Costuming at Mardi Gras is over-the-top and so interesting to see. I tend to be more of an observer than participant, but my wheels have been turning about “next year.”

Today is a whole other story: Valentine’s Day and Ash Wednesday. I have a rough draft of something like a poem on this bleary eyed, tired morning. I hope you will join me in musing about the cycle of a year or dragons or parades. Whatever this photo inspires in you. Leave your responses in the comments. Be sure to come back and encourage other writers.

Here we roll again
on the wheel of life,
round the bend
holiday to holiday.
A heart drawn on a post-it note
says “I Love You.”
Ashes on the forehead
remind us of death,
so Live
like the dragon
following its path.
Fire on!
Complete the turn!
Breathe hope for another day
in this parade!

Margaret Simon, draft

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Poetry Friday: Let’s Talk about Prompts

Posted in Creativity, Gifted Education, Poetry Friday, Teaching, Writing, tagged , , , , , , on February 9, 2024| 16 Comments »

Carol Varsalona is gathering poets today at Beyond Literacy Link.

Where do your prompts come from? Are you inspired to write without them or do you need a little push? Inspiration? Motivation?

I’ve been participating in The Stafford Challenge as well as Laura Shovan’s 12th Annual February Challenge, so I should not complain about needing or wanting a prompt for writing. My complaint, I suppose, is that there are too many prompts, too many things to write about. How do I choose the one? Not to mention, how do I keep up with it all?

I am lucky to be teaching ELA to different groups of children. We begin each class time with notebook writing. My students are loving this quiet, sacred writing time. I recently bought a collection of washi tapes and throw them out on the table for their use. My students are making color-coded pages, drawing, and writing, and embracing their creativity. They inspire me every day.

My student Sadie inspired this notebook poem. She came in singing. My heart drawing became a love poem I didn’t know was inside of me. The surprise of writing is addictive.

Dreams in my heart fly over the waves crashing onto the shore of your love. I am yours. You hold me like sea glass, soft and crystal, a gem, a gift from a broken world.

Margaret Simon, draft

Here is a page from Marifaye’s notebook. I marvel at her patience to write in two colors. She loves writing acrostics. Her notebook pages are beautifully created. She inspires me. She inspires her classmates. Maybe she will inspire you.

Notebook page by Marifaye

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This Photo Wants to be a Poem: Cemetery

Posted in Photography, This Photo Wants to be a Poem, Writing, tagged , , , , on February 7, 2024| 17 Comments »

Photo credit by Kevin Nusser, “I took the photo while visiting Elijah Bond’s grave in the green mount cemetery in Baltimore MD”

I saw this photo on Facebook in The Stafford Challenge group. I was struck by the way Kevin Nusser caught the sun atop a steeple. This photo mused him to write on an old typewriter. Here is a photo of his poem.

I often think about how poetry begets more poetry. Billy Collins points this out in his poem “The Trouble with Poetry”. Can you find inspiration in the photo, the words? Perhaps steal a line and write a golden shovel. I believe the world can never have too much poetry.

How many times will we
face death, wonder who are
the ones we’ll lose? If I’m lucky, I won’t lose all
my people before I go. As long as living
keeps you here, I won’t have to carry our
losses alone. I can live a wild life.

Margaret Simon, draft

Please join me and write. If you choose, share your draft in the comments. Please leave encouraging responses to others.

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Slice of Life: Poeming

Posted in Slice of Life, Writing, tagged , , , , on February 6, 2024| 16 Comments »

Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for creating an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write and share.

I started this 2024 year off as I’ve always wanted to, by writing every day. I haven’t missed a day yet. And I’m saying to my self, “This is easy.” I receive a newsletter each week from poet Maggie Smith. Hers is the only Substack I actually subscribe to. Her letter this week encouraged us to keep going. She has a just do it attitude about writing. It doesn’t matter if it’s any good. Just keep doing it, every day.

“If anyone has tried to stop me, it’s been that little voice in my head that says I’m not good enough, or no one will care what I have to say, or my idea isn’t very interesting. And my job is to turn down the volume of that little voice—the ‘inner critic’ we sometimes call it—and believe in myself and keep going. And I hope you do that, too.”

Maggie Smith

I’ve tried The Artist’s Way morning pages, but there are too many page requirements (3). I’m doing only one page. That’s it. That’s enough.

Keeping a notebook nearby is important to this practice. That and a good pen that feels smooth, flows easily. I’m not a brand snob about it. Sometimes the best pens are ones I’ve found at a doctor’s office.

To be writers, we have to give ourselves permission to write badly. Revision is our friend. I hold my breath whenever I send a poem or two to my writing group. How can I be so tender after all these years? I’ll always be vulnerable when it comes to writing, but that shouldn’t stop me.

Are you writing every day? If you’re not, are you feeling guilty about it? What would help? A new pen? A new notebook? Indulge in those things, but don’t wait for ideas. Ideas are those sparks that happen only if you ARE writing. They don’t happen unless you open the clean page and scribble a bit. Maybe one day what you scribble will look like a poem. Maybe one day your scribbles will speak to others. But today, scribble, play, bounce words around.

I am participating in Laura Shovan’s February Challenge on Facebook. It’s a small community of people like me. Some are more published. Some are not. We are all throwing words out and looking at how they land. I can write long or short. This year the topic is games, but I’m enjoying how loosely this topic has been interpreted. Today’s prompt was “games animals play” and I couldn’t help but think of my dog Charlie and his faithfulness to the tennis ball.

Charlie the schnoodle learned early
in his life to relate to strangers
with the toss of a ball.
Anyone would throw it; he would retrieve
again and again–offering
his love & attention
by way of a yellow tennis ball.

(Ode to Charlie, Sept. 1, 2007-Sept. 13, 2023) 

Margaret Simon, draft

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