Poetry | Reflections on the Teche

Archive for the ‘Poetry’ Category

Water Triolet

Posted in Poetry, Poetry Friday, Teaching, tagged Poetry prompts, teaching gifted, triolet, water quotes on February 21, 2013| 12 Comments »

Sheri is hosting the round up today at her site, Sheri Doyle

In our district (in Louisiana, we call them parishes), our gifted students are spread across the parish in a dozen schools. In order to bring together our 6th grade students the year before they go to middle school together, we designed an enrichment program. The 6 elementary gifted teachers meet with all the 6th graders for one day a month to work on a specific real world project. This year our theme has been water, and I lead them in a poetry exercise each month.

This month I got the idea of using the triolet form from fellow Poetry Friday blogger, Joy at Poetry for Kids Joy. Last week, she posted a few triolet poems she wrote using quotes about writing. So I searched for quotes about water. The students’ handout included the directions for writing a triolet and a list of quotes about water. I asked them to choose a quote and use it as the first line of the poem. The best part about this exercise was I wrote with the students, and we did 5 small group rotations, so I wrote 5 triolet poems. I will only post my two favorites here.

Snow Day from Linda at Teacher Dance.

Snow Day
Someday we’ll evaporate together,
But today we’ll play in the snow.
Someday we’ll ignore the weather,
But today we’ll slip and flow.
Like two birds of the same feather,
we’ll talk and laugh and glow.
Someday we’ll evaporate together,
But today we’ll play in the snow.

–Margaret Simon, all rights reserved

Clean
Be like water, float.
Let bubbles wash you like soap.
Dance on waves, forget the boat.
Be like water, float.
Find a bottle, read the note,
Wonder, dream, imagine, hope.
Be like water, float.
Let bubbles wash you like soap.

–Margaret Simon, all rights reserved

Read Full Post »

Art Speaks to Me

Posted in Poetry, Slice of Life, Spiritual Growth, tagged art, Cathy Mills, ekphrasis, poetry on February 19, 2013| 6 Comments »

Join the Tuesday Slice of Life

On Sunday, I went to an art opening at A&E Gallery. In this show, I knew some of the artists, and I took the time to talk to them about their work and their process. My simple question, “Tell me about your art,” usually leads to a long, fascinating story. I learn a great deal about the artist and what drives their work.

This piece drew my attention. I’ve known the artist, Cathy Mills, for many years. We were Writing Project teachers together, but we had fallen out of touch. When she told me about this piece, she talked about how it had started out as a tree and then became these heavenly women. After others stepped away, she said, “Can I tell you what is really going on in this piece? I lost my son a year ago.” She proceeded to tell me how the painting was healing to her. She feels at peace now. She knows her son is at peace. Teary-eyed, I asked if I could photograph the picture and write a poem about it. I sent her the poem by email, and she approved its publication here hoping it may help someone else who is struggling with grief.

Art by Cathy Mills

The Story

The flames ignite in her spine
growing to yellow gold. She can feel
her bones, every sinew, every nerve hot,
like her pulse, raging and fierce.

She remembers the call at 2 AM.
She hears the nurse’s voice,
“We have your son here.”
She knew he was gone.

With all the time she had, every arrest,
every hospital stay, every cry,
nothing could have saved him
from the fire. Now, peace rises

in blue angels from the roots
of her mothering. These women announce
Joy, pronounce Glory.
Tell her that he is well.
All will be well.

Read Full Post »

Calm before the Storm

Posted in Poetry, Teaching, tagged dogs, idioms, poetry on February 2, 2013| Leave a Comment »

When my students write, I write. When we were playing with idioms the other day, I wrote this poem about my dog Charlie, who in all other respects is the perfect dog. For an interview with me and Charlie, go to Coffee with a Canine.

Charlie when he’s calm.

Calm Before the Storm

In the middle of the night
when all the doors are locked,
the lights are off, the scent
of dinner lingers in the air,
we sleep soundly, softly snoring.

Before the first lightning flashes,
before the sound of rolling thunder,
and well before the alarm clock rings,
Charlie whimpers, then cries,
and suddenly, an all out frightening bark
wakens the whole house.

Sure as the groundhog predicts
the coming of spring, lightning strikes,
the rain falls, thunder booms.
The storm is here.

Read Full Post »

Outside Salzburg

Posted in Poetry, Slice of Life, tagged Christmas cards, John Gibson, poetry, Salzburg Austria on January 29, 2013| 6 Comments »

John Gibson, artist

My parents went on a trip to Austria in March of 2004. On the train from Salzburg to Innsbruck, they took a photograph of this scene. My father did this pointillist drawing for his first in a series of Christmas cards. It proved to be one of the hardest to write about. The experience for them was magical, but when I think of this area of the world “Sound of Music” comes to mind. “The hills are alive…” and escaping Nazis. This scene is unblemished, yet the history scarred. Here is my attempt to capture this dichotomy.

Outside Salzburg
May we all find peace, joy, and hope in Christ’s love.

From the train, snow-covered hills beckon
outside Salzburg. The whistle echoes.
Trees stand tall and barren.
Weary travelers stare in wonder.

Somewhere in the distance,
a child is torn from his mother’s arms,
a beggar reaches out with empty hands,
Somewhere, a woman grieves for her lost lover.

But here– on the road to Innsbruck–
a church glistens on the smooth,
unblemished snow, calling out
Let
there
be
peace.

Join the Tuesday Slice of Life

Read Full Post »

The Star Still Leads

Posted in Poetry, Poetry Friday, tagged ekphrasis, Epiphany, John Gibson on January 18, 2013| 12 Comments »

Artwork by John Gibson

I attend the Episcopal Church of the Epiphany, so Sunday, Jan. 6th was our feast day. For the occassion, Bishop Jake Owensby visited and preached at the service. He talked about how the wise men were not searching for a certain geographical location, but for a person. His whole sermon can be found on his blog, Pelican Anglican.

I was inspired by Bishop Jake’s words when I picked up this card from my collection. I tried to capture the idea of our continual search in this poem.

The Star Still Leads
The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.

Wise men traveled a great distance
with a will
strong enough to carry them
over hills and dunes,
through nights of wind,
storms, and cold.
All in search of a person.

Life is a destination
recorded in scrapbooks
dated photographs,
no east, south,
west, or north,
but names, people we love,
people who sustain us in hope.

We are revealed to God,
our calloused hands curled
in prayer,
we reach up,
fervently asking
for relationship, for health, for understanding.
Asking for a star.

all rights reserved, Margaret Simon

Violet is hosting the round-up today. Check it out!

Read Full Post »

Possum

Posted in Poetry, Slice of Life, tagged bayou, flood, possum, prose poetry on January 15, 2013| 8 Comments »

Join the Tuesday Slice of Life

The bayou creeps closer and closer. A view from our back deck.

It’s been raining a lot. Last week, we only school for two days before we had two days off due to constant rain and flooding. The water has stayed a safe distance from my house, but the bayou banks are overflowing. I think this puts my pets into hibernation mode, but the outside animals, what do they do? Where do they go to find a warm, dry place?

I am not a fan of possums usually. They upset my dog and eat the cat food. They are downright ugly. But on Saturday morning, I watched one swim across the bayou and eventually climb up on our deck. I wrote a prose poem about his visit.

I watch a possum glide in this morning on the overflowing bayou.
Days and days of rain have flooded the banks and perhaps his nest.
Foraging, this common marsupial wanders–a scavenger exposed on an overcast winter morn. Minutes later, he appears on the deck. The dog goes nuts, barking in the screeching voice of a teenager attacked by a wasp. But the possum—unfazed—doesn’t notice the commotion.
He is on a mission, his long snout waving back and forth,
back and forth. I laugh at his comic book white face and pink nose as he swaggers away, probably laughing, too.

Read Full Post »

Old Year, New Year

Posted in Poetry, Slice of Life, tagged New Year, One Little Word on January 1, 2013| 8 Comments »

Sunset at Lake Martin, photographed by Leon Henry.

My pipe is out, my glass is dry;
My fire is almost ashes too;
But once again, before you go,
And I prepare to meet the New:
Old Year! a parting word that’s true,
For we’ve been comrades, you and I —
I thank God for each day of you;
There! bless you now! Old Year, good-bye!
–Robert William Service, The Passing of the Year

I thank God for each day of 2012. But today, I say hello to 2013.

Last night as I was drifting off to sleep with the pop, bang, boom of our neighbor’s fireworks, I was thinking about the night creatures. What do they think about this silly human tradition of setting fire to the sky at night?

Where do the owls go
when you set the sky on fire
with your loud, booming works?
Drowning out the who of my nighttime friend,
you celebrate intolerably, sending flares,
screaming as if chased by a bee.
This noise just can’t be right.
Where did the owls go tonight?

Read other Slice of Life writers at The Two Writing Teachers

Over at Two Writing Teachers, New Year’s Day Slices of Life are being collected. We have been challenged not to set New Year’s resolutions, but to select One Little Word to live by this year. This has been a challenge for me because it’s not really a word that I want, but an attitude. I want to value my work, whatever that work may be. I want to see it as significant to the greater good. But I want to be gentle with myself at the same time. So this year, my one little word is acceptance.

In William Zinsser’s book On Writing Well, he speaks of the audience for your writing: “It is a fundamental question with a fundamental answer; you are writing for yourself. Entertain yourself. You are who you are, so relax and say what you want to say.” So, to whoever is reading today, I am here on Jan. 1, 2013 to declare a new attitude. Acceptance!

Read Full Post »

Quiet Morning

Posted in Poetry, Slice of Life, tagged Christmas, John Gibson, poetry on December 25, 2012| 9 Comments »

As usual, I am up early on Christmas morning. I woke up with the storm and now I am listening to the rain and cuddling with Charlie, my schnoodle who is afraid of storms. Soon the hustle and bustle of opening gifts and eating dinner with family will interrupt this silence. We need both, silence and noise.

Last night at the Christmas Eve service, we had quiet prayer and joyous hymns. I love singing at Christmas time because I know all the words and all the alto parts. Having all three girls home makes the house loud and busy. I love this, too.

But the quiet is where I find God. This early morning Christmas, I pray for the families of Sandy Hook victims. May they find peace. I remember those who are absent from our own family. And I pray that this day will fill our hearts with enough love to block out all the evil in this world.

I have given myself a writing challenge this season. My father has been creating a Christmas card each year for the last 9 years. I have the collection on display. I am attempting to write a poem for each one. Inside each card, he wrote a biblical message. I use this message as an epigraph.

John Gibson, 2008

Out of Egypt

“Out of Egypt I have called my Son.”

Out of
the cool dark night
in the midst
of old tales,
myths of Egypt,
land of Kings,
I hear His voice–
a whisper–Go.
Take my Son,
Embrace hope.
Go.

–Margaret Simon, all rights reserved

Read other Slice of Life writers at The Two Writing Teachers

Read Full Post »

A Light in the Darkness

Posted in Poetry, Poetry Friday, tagged Christmas, John Gibson, Mary, poetry on December 21, 2012| 4 Comments »

Heidi is hosting today.

Artwork by John Gibson, 2012

“Mary treasured all these words and pondered them in her heart.”

The light
circles
like a ripple in calm water.

Brighter
than morning sun,
this evening star beams

Illuminating
dust particles to dance
around his little head.

He nurses,
content and strong,
pulling my heart.

Read Full Post »

There’s a Certain Slant of Light

Posted in Poetry, Teaching, tagged Emily Dickinson, Poets.org, winter poems on December 14, 2012| 1 Comment »

Join Jama at Alphabet Soup for more of Poetry Friday.

At this time of year, the days grow shorter, the weather cooler. In a recent e-newsletter from Poets.org, I found a lesson plan designed for 9th-12th graders about exploring darkness and light through poetry. I teach gifted elementary kids, so I adapted the plan somewhat to fit my level of students. But I kept Emily Dickinson’s poem There’s a Certain Slant of Light. The poem is presented on Poem Flow in which a few words appear on the screen and fade out to the next lines. This technology added interest to the lesson. My students didn’t quite “get” the message of the poem, but they learned about the sound of poetry. We talked about some of our “wonder” words, like heft, affliction, and oppression.

Before presenting the Dickinson poem, I turned off the lights and we wrote words and phrases that we thought of in the dark. Then they chose words they wanted to “steal” from Emily Dickinson. Then we wrote. Each time we write, we share. We have a class Kidblog site, so they post to it. Since I travel between two schools, this allows my students to read and comment on writing from another school’s gifted class.

Some of our poems were coming out pretty spooky and dark. OK, I know I set that up with turning out the lights and reading There’s a Certain Slant of Light, but I challenged myself to write a happy poem. I was pleased with my poem that the students helped me title “Silhouettes.”

Silhouettes

We turn out the lights
Behind sheets, our hands
Make shapes–a story,
a dance,
a play–
No audience
No stage
No flashing lights
Just my brother and me
on a winter afternoon.

Margaret Simon, all rights reserved

One of my students wrote a short piece with a repeating line, so when I conferred with him, I taught him about the Pantoum form in which the second and fourth line becomes the first and third of the next stanza. This is his revised poem:

Winter (A Pantoum)
This is darkness, the black, blurry time of the year.
It blinds me in sadness.
Its dull appearance gives me the blues.
This is darkness, the black, blurry time of the year.

Darkness blinds me in sadness.
Cobwebs surround me.
This is darkness, the black, blurry time of the year.
Shadows everywhere.

Cobwebs surround me.
Tiny bits of light make creepy reflections on the floor.
Shadows everywhere.
This is darkness.
–Matthew

I have a new student who is a third grader. I have gently drawn her into our writing circle. She is shy, yet confident. When she wrote the following poem, it had 3 rhyming lines, but no others, so I talked to her about making a decision in her revision. She could keep the rhyming lines, but since we expect the poem to rhyme, she would need to make some of the other lines rhyme. She decided not to keep the rhyming words and went to the thesaurus to revise. I think she is quickly getting the hang of writing workshop. Here is her revision:

Winter Glory

The winter woods can be glowing

even though you are afraid.

The bright sun shines from behind.

The cold dark woods are sometimes gloomy.

The squirrels are scurrying for the last nut.

I am blinded by the beauty.

–Vannisa

Photo by Clare L. Martin
Vannisa’s inspiration came from this photograph.

Read Full Post »