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Archive for the ‘Poetry Friday’ Category

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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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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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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Mary Lee has the Round-up at A(nother) Year of Reading.

Here we are on the first Friday of the month and Inklings are spilling secrets. Catherine Flynn prompted us “Write a poem about secrets——family, community/societal, governmental, personal, etc.  This could be a narrative (how the secret(s) started, where it or they led, the along-the-way and final (if any) consequences.  For inspiration or starting blocks for your poem, here’s this poem, “Family Secret” by Nancy Kuhl:  https://poets.org/poem/family-secret

I found a way to write about my mother. It really isn’t a secret that she is living with Alzheimer’s. I’ve written about her before. But I hesitated to write about her. Is it disrespectful to the mother she used to be? I have discovered by revealing this secret, people are more open about their own struggles with the disease. I hope by telling my story with specificity, this poem/secret reaches out to the universal. 

Dressing my Mother at the Memory Care Home

In my dreams, she’s at the kitchen table,
sipping black coffee. She’s reading, ready
for the day to come. 

My sister and I remove her oversized jacket–
daughters on either side coaxing
her arms free from brown suede.
“Is this Dad’s old coat?” my sister asks, pulling

on the heavy cloth. We are caught 
in a maze of arms and fabric, 
confusion, undoing
a mistake of memory we can no longer hide from.
Mom stays silent. 

How does thinking work when words are gone?

Her eyes laugh at this silly game 
we’ve urged her to play.
She giggles
looks to the dolls on the bed–
“How are you doing today?” 

Margaret Simon

Visit other Inklings’ sites to hear their secrets, or not.

Catherine @Reading to the Core
Heidi @my juicy little universe
Linda @A Word Edgewise
Molly @Nix the Comfort Zone
Mary Lee @A(nother) Year of Reading

Illustration from How to Say Goodbye by Wendy MacNaughton

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Poetry Friday is hosted today by Susan Thomsen at Chicken Spaghetti.

This week the weather has turned to rain, rain, rain. The fog is hovering. Humidity high. Winter blues making me down. But then there is poetry.

Poetry saves me. I am empowered and energized by having written something. Every day, no matter the weather, I can write a poem.

Elfchen has been my go-to form. I’m writing a few everyday. It’s such a nice compact form that can contain all of my emotions and balance my mood. Here’s one from my notebook.

January 25, 2024
Truth
comes in
times of silence
contemplating the thrumming rain
Presence.

Margaret Simon, 1/25/24 draft

I’ve signed up for The Stafford Challenge which is basically a commitment to write daily as William Stafford did. Here’s a poem about wanting to sleep in. It makes me smile.

You Do Not Have to be Good*
(*Mary Oliver “Wild Geese”)

You do not have to wake at 4 AM
to feed the cats
mewing at the back door.
Cats are survivors.

Turn over, go back to sleep–
the most delicious sleep comes
in the wee hours of the morning
in the whisper of the heater
under the warm blanket
his breathing, slow and steady.

Stretch your cramping foot.
Discuss with yourself how the day will go
if you just sleep a little more.

Dream, perhaps,
in this liminal space
of sacred meditation.
Lie with yourself;
Tell her to calm down.
The cats can wait. 

Margaret Simon, draft

How is your January going? Doesn’t it feel like such a long month? I hope you are writing yourself through it. And staying warm.

Peace Postcard by Linda Mitchell

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Poetry Friday is hosted today by Robyn Hood Black’s Life on the Deckle Edge

In the new year, I’ve returned to a daily notebook practice with my students. Little did I know the Stafford Challenge would appear and reaffirm my commitment. I adopted this practice years ago after an NCTE panel I coordinated which included Naomi Shihab Nye. We talked about William Stafford’s daily writing, and I adapted the steps to fit with my young students. For whatever reason (maybe Covid) I haven’t been leading my students to write daily in their notebooks. Now I’m reminded of the importance of a daily writing practice. These first few days of the Stafford Challenge, I have opened up more and more on the blank page and worried less about perfection.

Notebook page on Thursday, our first day of school all week.

Our notebook steps:

  1. Date
  2. Quote
  3. What’s Up
  4. Poem-ish

Pretend Play Elfchen

Pretend
no script
Play echoes life.
Their light, my delight
–Shine!

Margaret Simon, draft

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Poetry Friday is hosted by Tracey Kiff-Judson at Tangles and Tails.

Have you ever had a form attach itself to you and beg you for a daily poem? I’ve hoped for a daily haiku to come to me for years now. I’ve tried it on, and some days it fits just fine, but I’ve recently felt a tug toward elfchen which is a similar form to a cinquain. Five lines. However, in an elfchen (elevenie, in English) there are more specific directions that stretch the form to a higher problem-solving level, a level of Flow for me, not too hard, not too easy.

On Tuesday, I wrote about beginning this new year with a practice of notebooking with my students. I shared an elfchen there.

Do you read The Marginalian? I highly recommend it as a weekly practice. Maria Popova sends a newsletter each Sunday, and it never fails to inspire me. This is a found elfchen from Jan. 7, 2024.

Attention
high degree
be as prayer
gravity in acts of
Love

Margaret Simon, found in The Marginalian

“Perhaps this spiritual dimension of love stems from a simple equivalence: At its core, love is the quality of attention we confer upon another; and as Simone Weil observed in her timeless meditation on the nature of grace, “attention, taken to its highest degree, is the same thing as prayer.” All of love’s gravity and all of its grace are found in our acts of attention.” Love and the Sacred–The Marginalian.

Have you started a new poetry practice? What commitment to writing have you made?

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Poetry Friday Round up is with Marcie Atkins today.

The first Friday of each month, one of my Inklings writing group friends gives us a challenge. Well, Heidi gave us 12 prompts, one for each day of Yuletide. She sent it to each of us in a handmade mobile. I attached it to my December calendar page and left it there while Christmas and a family trip happened. Only yesterday, I decided to glue the prompts into the remaining pages of my 2023 notebook. The ultimate procrastination, I’m afraid. I’ve written one poem, so it is one poem you will read. This is probably not what Heidi intended when she put so much time and handwork into making our Yuletide prompt calendar.

Call Back the Dying Sun

Your rising beckons me
to notice
a stream of light
overarching
bare trees.

Your rising beckons me
to be like you–
a light for
sight, beacon
of joy.

Your rising beckons me
to sense warmth
even at a slant
toward darkness–
I rise, too.

Margaret Simon, draft
Morning sun on the porch of our mountain house in Georgia.

Heidi @my juicy little universe
Molly @Nix the Comfort Zone
Catherine @Reading to the Core
Mary Lee @A(nother) Year of Reading
Linda @A Word Edgewise

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The Poetry Friday round up is with Michelle Kogan today.

I wasn’t planning to post for Poetry Friday today, but I’ve been playing with the elchen form (also known as elevenie), a challenge from the Poetry Sisters. Mary Lee shared the Wikipedia definition of the form. I wrote one last week for This Photo Wants to be a Poem.

While my family has been vacationing in the mountains of North Georgia, coincidentally the words of the day in my email inbox have worked for elchen play.

slippers
warm toes
on cold mornings
this winter’s saving grace
hygge*

Word of the day: hygge- A quality of coziness and comfortable conviviality that engenders a feeling of contentment or well-being (regarded as a defining characteristic of Danish culture).

Pack
suitcase, car
drive all day
family voyage to mountains
viator*

*Word of the Day 12/26/23 Viator traveler, wayfarer

Light
still shines
in your eyes
sea glass blue joy
luminaria*



*Luminaria is a lantern typically used at Christmas.

Leo (5), Mamere, Stella (3), Thomas (4)

Wayward
wanders hopeful
small mountain town
ice cream with sprinkles
gallivant*

*Word of the Day 12/29/23 Gallivant: Go around from one place to another in the pursuit of pleasure or entertainment.

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Poetry Friday is hosted today by Jone Rush MacCulloch.

Winter solstice is a day to look forward to, the ending of a school semester, the joy of decorating for Christmas, and our baby JuneBug’s birthday. And yet, almost as soon as I get home from school, the sky darkens and the world feels hushed and harsh and cold. Life is full of these bittersweet moments.

In 2013, I published a book with my poems and my father’s art, Illuminate. (Still available on Amazon.) I wrote poems for each of my father’s Christmas cards. He had done them for 10 years. It was also the year of his 80th birthday. On Novemeber 11th this year, he would have been 90. I miss him everyday. At this time of year, his presence is near as I thumb through his yearly cards and place one of his drawings on my wall. Art has become his legacy.

Artwork by John Gibson

The Star Still Leads

The light shines in the darkness, and 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.

We travel a great distance
recorded in scrapbooks,
dated photographs,
no east, no 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,
warmed by fervent asking
for relationship, for strength,
for understanding.
Asking for a star.

Margaret Simon, Illuminate, 2013

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